There are days it seems our faces are too far apart from one another. My ear is inclined to the voice of another… a voice more shrill and exciting than yours… at least… for the time being.

We stand at a party, you and I, taking turns sharing our souls. At first I listen, but then my mind and my eyes drift away. My glance is drawn, imperceptibly at first, to a blurred image in the corner of the room, just over your left shoulder. There is another conversation taking place. And soon, I am no longer present, my mind drugged and its edges blurred until the outline of your face is out of focus — your voice an echo of nitrous oxide. You’re fading, and I am no longer present.